


In-Flight Entertainment

by forthegreatergood



Series: Triple Threat [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthegreatergood/pseuds/forthegreatergood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things between Rhodey and Tony were complicated even before Afghanistan.</p>
<hr/><p>A rewrite of the jet scene from the first <i>Iron Man</i> film.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In-Flight Entertainment

**Author's Note:**

> All characters property of Marvel.
> 
> Not beta-read. Please post any noticed errors in the comments, and they'll get fixed.
> 
> Character names: Of the three flight attendants seen in the film, only Trixie is given a real name. The other two don't introduce themselves on camera, and all three are credited as "Flight Attendant."

James doesn’t quite understand why they always wind up like this. Like most times, it starts with Tony showing up late and hungover and smelling like last night’s conquest. It continues when he ignores Tony calling him “Rhodey” in front of his subordinates and hustles him onto the plane, the very picture of a professional handling a difficult asset over whom he has no real authority. He’s come to recognize that clinging to professionalism in front of Tony is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. He does it anyway. 

Sometimes it’s a necessity; he can’t indulge Tony in front of other servicemembers without setting an inappropriate tone for their dealings with him. It’s bad enough that a few of his superiors have intimated that he doesn’t need to worry about DADT if a ‘personal touch’ might help him keep Tony in line, under budget, and on their timetable. None of them were as crass about it as they might have been just a decade or two ago, but he doesn’t need that sort of reputation, and he doesn’t need to add grist to the rumor mill by getting too familiar with Tony in public. 

Sometimes it’s just his own stubbornness, a way of gaining back some of the ground he feels like he’s lost to Tony when the billionaire does whatever he damn well pleases with full knowledge that James can’t do anything to rein him in. He’s a babysitter who doesn’t have the ability to rat his charge out to his parents or even set an early bedtime. Sometimes it seems to hit all of Tony’s buttons just right, and he forgets he and James are something like friends in his quest to stick it to some ephemeral version of The Man, or at least their nearest convenient representative. It’ll pass--it always does--but it nettles him while it’s happening. Dropping the facade and letting Tony have his way is too much like giving in to a tantrum, and since keeping his game-face on is one of the only things he can actually do to retaliate, he’s not above doing it.

This time it’s a bit of both, and he keeps stonewalling even when they’re in the cabin alone except for the strippers/stewardesses, none of whom give a damn about anything but keeping their boss happy. 

If he weren’t stonewalling, he might find a way to ask discreetly if they’re exotic dancers Tony’s paid to pretend to be flight attendants or flight attendants he’s paid to take pole-dancing lessons. Since he is, he’ll just have to assume that in the event of heavy turbulence or an emergency, the women trying to sit in Tony’s lap will be in need of assistance rather than providing it. Tony’s sulking takes the form of aggressively making out with two girls--Trixie and something he didn’t quite catch but might have been Christie--and not-so-subtly indicating that the third should focus on James. When she makes an offer, he politely declines. It’s the part of the routine that he’s least comfortable with, and he’s not sure he’ll ever understand what’s going on. Since Tony refuses to admit it’s even a routine, he’s certainly not going to provide any answers about it.

James suppresses a wince when the woman gives him a pretty little pout and lets her long blond hair fall forward to bracket her face, because it’s fake and completely over the top and lethally effective, and he knows that when she offers him a drink he’s going to feel like too much of a heel to say no to that, too. When she does, and he doesn’t, she pours too much and snuggles up to him while he drinks it. She’s warm and comfortable and attentive and gorgeous, and she seems to have a sixth sense about exactly how handsy she can get as the liquor starts loosening him up. 

She also seems to have a sixth sense about when she can sneak more whiskey into his tumbler without giving him a window to object and exactly where to position herself so that he’s seeing Tony and his two companions over her shoulder whenever he looks at her. Once he’s got another few shots in him, James doesn’t feel that guilty about it. Jenni-with-an-I, who he’s reasonably sure specified that just to make it clear it’s a working name, knows precisely what she’s doing, at least. He’d still prefer it if Tony didn’t feel the need to involve anyone else, especially since they’ve done this enough times to know it’s not going to be a foursome. There’s some comfort in thinking that this time the women probably don’t have any expectation of or desire for full participation.

The next step is everyone winding up too close together, and James has his money on Tony firing up the projector for an impromptu screening of the latest art-house porno to catch his eye so that he can call them to his bench for a better look at the screen. It’s only a small surprise when one of the women groping Tony breaks away to pull Jenni over to their side of the couch, which gives Jenni an opportunity to haul James over with her. He winds up next to Tony, whose lap is currently occupied by the third attendant, and Jenni and her friend start making out in a lovely but obviously choreographed way on his other side. Jenni keeps guiding his hands over her body, and he’s not buzzed enough to feel normal about it. He’s been to enough strip clubs in his time that touching a girl who’s performing feels like, at best, a serious breach of etiquette. It’s a relief when Tony’s hand finally slides up his thigh, because he’s getting hard enough that it’s going to be obvious in another minute or so, and he somehow feels like a jerk every time he tries to tell Jenni no.

It’s his move after that, and he bridges the gap that Tony can’t ever seem to make himself close. Tony teases, and Tony flirts, and Tony does everything but invite James to fuck him, but James always has to take that last little step. When he half-turns away from Jenni to kiss Tony’s neck, the hand on his thigh tightens sharply, and Tony moans a little. Trixie slides off to give James more room to work, and then he’s kissing Tony fiercely while she fusses with Tony’s zipper. Tony’s stubble is rough against his skin, and Tony still smells like the perfume of a woman far too young for him, but Tony’s mouth is hot against his and those beautiful brown eyes are dilated and desperate, and he can’t bring himself to care.

It’ll be all downhill from here, James knows. Tony’s pretty, the precise sort of pretty that James is an idiot for, and Tony knows it. Once he’s panting “Rhodey” into James’s ear and half-naked and bucking against him, he can get James to do almost anything he wants, and he knows that, too. It would help, he thinks, if they hadn’t fallen for each other. They’re dysfunctional, but they’d be less dysfunctional if they were just fuck-buddies. What they’re doing defies rational explanation almost as baldly as what Tony’s doing with Pepper, who’s practically his wife except for the part where they don’t screw and won’t admit they love each other. He and Tony are practically boyfriends, except for the part where they won’t admit they want to screw each other. 

It’s a bit of a surprise when it’s Trixie instead of Tony guiding his hand to Tony’s cock, but James elects to be grateful for it instead of questioning it. Tony just thrusts up into his fist and moans into his mouth, and James doesn’t stop stroking him when Jenni curls against his back and kisses his neck and slips her hands over his waist to start undoing his fly. He’s vaguely aware that Jenni’s friend has poured herself a drink and is watching them raptly, and he can’t blame her. Tony’s handsome even at his most hungover and sleep-deprived, and he looks like an angel when he’s halfway to coming like this. If the downtime at his job involved a view like this, wild horses couldn’t drag him out of the break room. 

James starts when Jenni’s hand closes around his length, and Tony grabs a handful of his shirt and uses it to pull him closer. So maybe this time Tony’s other friends will stay in the game; he can roll with that. He’s careful not to jostle Jenni when he moves to get a better angle on Tony, and she moves right along with him. She matches her pace to his, but her grip on his cock a lot lighter than his grip on Tony’s; she seems more interested in working him into a lather than making him come. Trixie is sucking on Tony’s neck now, getting behind him the same way Jenni’s slotted herself in behind James. Trixie slides her hands up and under Tony’s shirt, pulling the fabric up to expose skin, and Tony bites at James’s lower lip when she finds his nipples. James would be admiring the clean lines of Tony’s torso if he could get an inch of space between them, but Tony’s grip on his shirt is unbreakable and Tony’s mouth is insistent against his and he can’t see anything past Tony’s heavy-lidded eyes and Trixie’s mane of dark hair. Tony always gets more demanding the closer he is to climax, and James has a hard time not indulging him.

When Tony comes, he pulls James as close as he can, and Jenni retreats a little so she doesn’t end up with her arm trapped between them. He can feel her slide it between her belly and his back, and the movement of her hand starts up again with a new rhythm, and by now he’s not surprised to find that she’s stroking herself as she rubs her breasts against her back. She’s angled so that she can see when Tony shakes off the post-orgasm torpor and goes down on him, and James is careful not to move too suddenly when Tony’s mouth closes around his cock. Trixie slips away from them, and he thinks he can hear the sounds of some far-less-scripted kissing and moaning from behind the three of them, but it’s hard to pay too much attention to anything but Tony’s mouth on his cock and Jenni’s mouth on his throat. She’s gentle; he’s less so, his lips and tongue working like he needs James to come _now_.

When James does, because there have been little sparks of fire shooting along his nerves and over his skin since Tony started kissing him and now it’s too good to hold off any longer, there’s a momentary look of something like triumph in Tony’s eyes. Then he’s pulling off and climbing into James’s lap and wrapping his arms around him, and he starts kissing Jenni over James’s shoulder. James can’t feel much more than warm and content when Jenni shudders and goes still against him, and he nips lazily at Tony’s throat.

Jenni scoots back along the couch until she can sprawl out more comfortably, and Tony rests against him, catching his breath.

“See, Rhodey?” he asks. “Everything’s better with a nightcap. This is why you should listen to me more often.”

James rolls his eyes. Tony can’t see him from where he’s wrapped around James’s chest, his head tucked firmly under James’s jaw, but they know each other well enough that Tony knows he’s doing it, and he knows that Tony knows he’s doing it.

“I listen to you too often,” James murmurs back. “That’s the problem.”

“Hey! You’re not allowed to call this a problem until we’ve got our pants back on,” Tony protests. He snuggles closer, and James automatically runs his hands along Tony’s back, under his shirt. “Mmm.” He arches against him a little. “House rules. No complaining without pants on.”

There’s a small, muffled cry from behind them, followed quickly by a breathy little sigh. Tony licks at his throat and chuckles. Trixie’s licking her lips when she comes back, looping a tie between her fingers and smiling seductively. She slides it over Tony’s eyes like a blindfold, and he moves his head to let her.

“Turndown service, Mr. Stark?” she coos. He smirks, and James maneuvers him onto his feet as Trixie takes his hand.

“That’s a nice color on you,” James snorts at his back. So much for the afterglow. 

“You like me in blue?” Tony asks in his general direction, his grin turning wicked. James doesn’t let himself acknowledge the question. The whole point of this flight intrudes on his own euphoria.

“Get some rest!” he calls after them. The trip out to the presentation site is rough terrain, and he doesn’t want Tony looking like death warmed over by the time the brutal jetlag and the ride there catch up with him. There’s a lot counting on the demonstration going well.

James rearranges himself on the couch, tucking his cock back into his pants and buttoning up. He can worry about steaming the wrinkles out of everything later, when his legs don’t feel like rubber and his head isn’t humming with a mix of alcohol and hormones. Jenni stretches out, lays her head in his lap, and gives him a sleepy smile, and he rests his hand on her arm affectionately. The girl whose name he didn’t catch tucks herself under his other arm and starts asking questions about planes, the answers to which couldn’t concern her less so long as she can fall asleep against him without getting a crick in her neck. He lets his head fall back against the back of the couch and starts to drift off himself. By the time his eyes droop closed, he can hear Trixie moaning in the bedroom, and his last coherent thought is to wonder whether Tony would pick drinking or screwing if his refractory period didn’t let him get away with both like it does.


End file.
